StarFox: Nexus
by sk3tch-MT
Summary: When the people you bleed for suddenly want you to bleed some more, it's time to throw aside those picky things; like honor and loyalty. StarFox is on the verge of their most lethal quest yet, and just about everyone they knew wants them dead.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is the start of a hopefully long story. The story itself will consist of 3 books each holding several or chapters relating to that book. So without further adieu…

"**StarFox: Nexus"**

_By: Bigfox_

Book One: Heroes Fall

Prologue: Death Row

Why is this happening to me? When will it end? Does it end at all?

Fox could not help but to repeat the questions in his ever vigilant mind. As he sat hunched over with his upper forearms resting above his bent knees, his bruised body on the synthetic cushion that made his single person bed, he watched Slippy pacing nervously back and forth in their small but ample cell room where the rest of Team Starfox dwelled.

Falco lay down on the bunk above where Fox was with a look of seething contempt on his face. It would be no surprise to Fox to find out that he was asking himself the same three questions, but it a bit more profane manner. Krystal was setting on the bed across from where Fox was; legs on the bed but bent towards her chest with arms folded over. Her head mere inches from her arms and her face still light with tears, but shame all the same.

Slippy continued his nervous survey of the dark, dank room; save for a dim light in the ceiling and the soft blue glow of ultra-high security beams that made "door" to their confinement. A typical setting for prisoners, but not under typical convictions, especially the ones that had befallen the ever loyal Cornerian mercenary squadron: Starfox.

The team was practically alone, save for the single guard in the hall. A medium sized bulldog, setting roughly 192 lbs; a rather stout individual. His uniform dawned with infantry and rifle badges, woven in cloth on his CBU's. Army Sgt. William Bill Durnahm, "Wild Bill" to his platoon, was a survivor and a military hero of the Venomian assault on Fortuna. He was awarded the Bronze star for saving his Lieutenant's life on Fortuna, and leading his squad to re-capture the communications array on the lush jungle planet. That's when he was leader of first squad, second platoon. Wild Bill, however, was forced to stand aside on the altar of valor and heroism once Starfox showed up.

Now, being reassigned to guard duty because of the countless reports of MIA's, AWOL's, and unfortunately KIA's that left Corneria's Military Chain of Command in near shambles, Wild Bill Durnahm couldn't help but be a little bored and sleepy setting in his simple metal chair; but it sure was comfortable after three hours of this crap. Guarding these treacherous pukes was a job for security personnel, not Rangers. His ears perked and his eyes cracked hearing a high, annoyingly shrill voice emerge from the cell down the hall.

"All we need is some form of proof. We hadn't even r-received a shipment for the new Nova devices. They should know as well as we do that we don't carry out those kinds of st-strikes…and…"

The "door" sparked in a shower of electrical fury as William's stun-baton viciously slapped one of the beams as he shouted.

"HEY! Shut the fuck up ya' traitor!" Slippy was abruptly cut off by the low, growling voice of the bulldog that had darted down the hall from his resting position.

Slippy just stared at him, letting a small gulp go down his throat. Sgt. Durnahm was only an inch or two below Fox, making him much taller than Slippy, and much stronger. The fang-bearing glare from his face sent a chill down Slippy's back. Cornerian soldiers, while usually canine, didn't look as fierce as this, a new and frightening aspect as he just discovered. He had no idea just how capable this canine was of dishing out lethal combat, just one aspect of being a Cornerian Ranger.

Durnahm glanced over to Krystal who had lifted her head only slightly to the ruckus. Her eyes rose to be level with his; they were still watery. Her telepathy was blocked from lack of concentration, but this man's rage was clouding his mind anyway; that much she could sense.

Fox paid no attention to Durnahm. His head had cocked slightly to the right, towards the laser fencing. His peripheral vision only caught his large black boots; a hearty 12 ½.

He returned his glare to Slippy and extended his bulky arm, wielding the baton, between two of the security beams pointing it straight at Slippy's face. Durnahm mashed a button on the device, activating the stunner on the end. It glowed a brilliant blue; the weapon was on full charge. Slippy's face grew more intimidated as he swallowed an even bigger gulp. That's just what the canine was looking for.

"That's enough to fry your slippery ass boy. Extra Crispy!" Durnahm chuckled as he deactivated the stun feature and turned towards his chair, he had made his first step when all of a sudden,

"Hey man lay off!" The voice; that insolent, insulting voice emanated from the bunk above where the vulpine sat.

Durnahm cocked his head almost instantly, as if his head shifted through space; his eyes where bloodshot.

"Did you just say something to me _Paulie!?_"Durnahm was nearly roaring in his low, growling bark. He was clearly furious that the avian even opened his mouth. Calling one _Paulie_ just as bad as committing a heinous crime as far as avians where concerned.

As such, Falco's eyes shot fully open in a fit of rage as he leapt from the bed, his feet missing Fox's head my mere centimeters. "Who you callin' Paulie mutt!?"

To this, the Bulldog drew his B-81 standard issue blaster from the holster, pulled the hammer with his thumb and aimed it straight between Falco's sharp red eye feathers. He activated the LAM, a small rectangular block attached to the underside of the handgun, the red dot appeared right at the same spot, almost blurring with the eye feathers, but a perfect contrast to the deep blue of the avian's facial feathers.

It wasn't really a stand-off, since Falco was unarmed and behind an electrical barrier, which left him at a bitter disadvantage; but he wasn't about to back down either. He simply stared at the canine. His glare focused on him.

The bulldog smiled at him. "You're already dead boy. There's nothing really stopping me from pulling this trigger. What makes you think they'll be upset about it anyway?" He said, referring to the population of Corneria. "They want you dead as much as I do."

"Yeah, what do you expect from the people we only gave everything we had for. Then what happens, an Arwing, _not my Arwing, _but just some random person's fighter flies in and rapes some random base. Next thing you know, people don't even ask questions, they just start pointing fingers and throwing people in prison. What kinda g—damned system is that?"

Falco's outburst only seemed to upset the bulldog even further, causing his trigger finger to twitch slightly. He managed to keep his cool, fortunately for Falco that it. This dog wanted nothing more than to see him dead. But it would be so satisfying to see it the way it was supposed to happen.

"Death row is where you are punk. Not prison. And that _random fighter_ talk is bullshit! Need I show you the high resolution photos of the Starfox emblem on that _random fighter_?"

Falco was running out of patience fast. "G—DAMMIT! That wasn't us! I swear to God!!!"

"Tell that to him before he sends you to hell."

With that, Sergeant Durnahm clicked the hammer back into place, deactivated the LAM and holstered his sidearm. He stared at Falco one last time, seeing the contempt in his face, but also the fear, that feeling of hopelessness that soldiers like himself had felt one too many times in their time.

"I'd say you should change your name to Star-Fucked!" He chuckled and walked away.

Fox was listening the whole time. Those words, however cruel, we're unfathomably the truth. Corneria and all her inhabitants wanted Starfox to pay for what they had "done".

"_An unprovoked, unpremeditated, sadistic airborne massacre at the hands of these once revered mercenaries has left this Cornerian Army outpost in complete, death riddled ruin. Estimates put survival at a minimum of 50 soldiers and other personnel. While the team is currently in custody, no one in the galaxy has any idea how or why or what could have brought the seemingly dastardly strike of vengeance here today. Retired pilot and Starfox member Peppy Hare has yet to make a statement, and appears to have withdrawn from public eyes. What few officials had made contact with him say he had no connection to the attack today whatsoever. We will be sure to report any new information as soon as possible. In the mean time we should all be thinking of the families of the victims and…."_

That's how the news read that morning. The legendary Starfox team, having wiped out the Aparoid menace and assisting in combat operations above Fortuna, had initiated an attack on a Cornerian military outpost that was working diligently in the recovery of the capitol city. Using newly designed Nova devices, as well as refurbished fighter aircraft.

Lies…all lies…

Fox stood up and stood behind Falco, slightly to his right and placed a paw on his shoulder. Though Fox didn't notice, a tear crept from Falco's eye.

"We can't just sit here and let them fry us." Falco began, referring to the method of execution chosen by the Cornerian Galactic Court. "Can't we re-open the case? They just gotta give us a chance to find proof!"

"There is proof out there." Slippy had intervened, never moving from his position from when Durnahm first showed up. "I know it. It's in the record books, the manifest documents, Great Fox's flight logs. Even ROB's memory banks."

"Look, I know how much this sucks, "Fox had interrupted. He was oblivious to just about any attempt to hope since they were thrown in there. "But I honestly think they would have found something on any of that by now. I'm telling you, someone's gotten really smart about this. We've been had, majorly. We are here, and _they _are somewhere now, watching TV waiting for them to finish us. We've been framed, I know, but I can't…"

His head dropped. He inched his way towards Krystal's bunk. As he sat down, Krystal shifted to where she was on her knees behind where Fox was sitting. She clasped her arms around him hang her head over his right shoulder.

"I can't figure out who could do such a thing…or how…" His face dropped again, "…or why."

"Because you're Starfox, that's why." A gruff, all too familiar voice came from the darkness of the corridor.

Fox's ears perked, but he remained still. He knew who it was before his next sentence was even said. That cold, rugged voice that only a wolf was capable of spoke again.

"Didn't I tell you pup? If anyone's gonna tan your hide, it's me."

Wolf O'Donnell emerged from the shadow. The canus lupis that the team knew so well was standing before them, on the other side of the barrier of course.

"Such irony," he began. "Naturally I'm the one behind the beams. This is turning out to be pretty amusing. But unlike you, I don't spend a week in these places. I'm usually out within twenty-four hours."

"That's weird." Fox said. "So when did you become an escape artist?"

"Never." Wolf replied. "Unlike your pals, mine take care not to be around when the shit hits the fan. So when I wind up in the pen, they usually know where to find me. I plan for the worst Fox. That's how my team operates. Maybe you should try it too. Relying on your buddies with their brand new toys will only last for so long. I mean hey, how long have you had the new model Arwings?"

"Who cares?!" Fox shot back. "I wasn't even in mine when all this happened."

"Yeah, I guess you gotta point." Wolf said. He crossed one arm over his chest and propped his other as he began stroking his chin fur.

"So you believe we are innocent?" Krystal asked. She got up from behind Fox, allowing him to do the same. Fox approached the barrier, but stopping about a foot from the beams.

"It doesn't matter what I think. Sure I'd be surprised, maybe even a little disappointed if you tried to turn as bad as me. Rivalry just ain't the same when conscience doesn't clash. So if you wanna turn in to a backstabbing criminal, consider us just another merc agency. Hell I still whip your lil ass. But it wouldn't be the same."

Krystal just glared at Wolf, as did Fox.

"So to answer your question, no. To add to it, don't ever try to make friends with me."

"Why did you come here Wolf? To gloat over this occasion?" Fox asked. "Or did you just miss me?"

"The latter, asshole." Wolf replied again. "Like I said, if anyone's gonna kill you, it's me."

"So you're here to let us out?" Slippy interjected, the slight hint to glee in his tone.

Wolf growled at the amphibian. "No froggie. I'm here to keep these bastards from doing my job before me."

As morbid as it was, Fox wasn't about to let this chance escape. "Alright, let's keep our cool until we're _out_ of the cell at least. Wolf, get moving. The….exec…._it_…starts in 5 hours." He cringed in anger, fear, and shame at the word that narrowly avoided escaping his mouth. The gang also felt a similar tinge.

"Don't bark orders at me pup. I'll let you out. But under one condition." Wolf stated, raising the corresponding digit from his paw to place emphasis on his demand.

Fox blinked and sighed. "What is it?"

Wolf simply grinned, nefariously. "Well that'll just have to wait till later. If you refuse when the time comes, I'll sound an alarm and they send you right back to square one," Wolf chuckled. "Unless they shoot you on the spot, in which case my whole reason for being here right now is shot."

"Sooo…you wanna free us so you can shoot us?" Falco asked, not likeing the way Wolf made the deal sound. "I think I'd rather deny you the pleasure, wolfie."

"HA!" Wolf spouted. He spun around and began a slow paced approach to the security terminal on the wall in in front of where the cell was. He removed the hard glass casing and began mashing buttons in succession. After a series of monotone beeps, the ultra-high electro-beams disappeared into the frame where the emitters where mounted vertically. Wolf turned around again to see the crew steadily making their way out of the room never breaking gaze with him. "I'm a hunter. I don't kill through a cage like a wimp. Sure, I take the advantage when I see it, but that's only when in combat."

Fox looked over to his right to see Sgt. Durnahm's body laying on the floor, with a small dart sticking in his neck. Tranqilizer.

"Are you in danger of becoming an honorable man Wolf?" Fox mused.

Wolf put a light scowl on his face. "Don't even think it, pup! Remember, you owe me big. Twice. As I recall, we saved your asses twice, even after your nearly killed us. I'm sure Panther will make his request clear soon enough." He glanced at Krystal, placing a coy grin on his face.

"I relish the opportunity to spit in his face should he try such a thing." She said, folding her arms.

"Don't count on it." Wolf replied. "I don't encourage inter-agency relations. Forget that crap. You morons just concentrate on getting out of here. Your ship is in the ground bay on the east side of the facility. That's open area, but the darkness should give you some cover. I trust this isn't your first rodeo in the sneaking business?"

**(A/N): **Well that's all folks. I'll update when I can between school and stuff. Peace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: Cause for Concern**

**13 days ago...**

It's quiet now; space is not the blame for this eerie silence. Four SFX Arwing Mk. II's and an emergency escape capsule with the words _**Great Fox **_embroidered on the side drifted lazily back and forth through the empty mass of space that was only just an hour ago the vicinity of the Aparoid home planet. There isn't much to be done, nor to say. It was time to play the waiting game, and waiting was something often done in the silence that was very well present at this moment.

Fox McCloud the minutes go by on his clock; seconds turning into more minutes. With his other eye, he watched the numbers on his fuel gauge decrease, presented in a percentage. He watched as 20% became 19%; fuel warnings began to ring…

"Well how about that…" Falco said, seemingly oblivious to the newly arrived cause for concern. His voice rising at every other word, "I've managed to break my own record for break-down and reassembling my blaster! It only took me an hour…an hour in which I could have landed this thing, had a shower, and done it in the comfort of my own room, which I forgot, just got ate by those pests."

"Nice, what's your record now speed demon?" Fox said, never tearing his gaze from the instrument panel. He himself didn't really seem to care much for the dropping fuel gauge either. He merely silenced his alarms, just like he predicted everyone else did. The truth is he was bored out of his mind; the unerring interest in his clock had proved that already. Falco's news was practically the best he'd received outside of Peppy's survival, despite knowing from the beginning.

"8.29 seconds…damn I'm good."

"**9**.29 seconds, don't lie Falco." Krystal let out a small giggle. Clearly her concerns never really included the fuel levels either. In fact, for that past hour she had been watching Falco's _handy work _quite intently, watching with her mind's eye that is.

"Ha! Gotcha Falco! I'm still setting pretty on 8.58!" Fox taunted to the avian. "Thank you Krystal. I was worried for a moment. Falco's getting a little too close to my title." He let out a light chuckle.

Falco let out an annoyed scoff. "Shut up Fox. I almost had you. Krystal! What were you doing anyway?"

"Being bored, unfortunately so much so, even though you can't beat Fox, I found that to be most amazing." Krystal sighed. And was about to say something else, but was interrupted by Slippy.

"I GOT IT!" Slippy exclaimed. "I think I can make contact with Corneria!"

"Oh, thank the maker!" Krystal sighed.

"Awesome job Slip! What do you need us to do?" Fox was already powering up his manual flight controls. Drifting didn't take much skill so the team had simply left the ships on auto-pilot. Falco had slipped his sidearm in to the storage compartment beneath his flight control panel. Since the new model Arwings were almost completely computerized, topped with a fully touch screen interface, the cockpit was pretty spacious despite its apparent size from the outside.

"Ok," Slippy started, "If I'm correct on this, we can link our transponders with the emergency comm-link in the pod. We can send a b-burst transmission that should act as a beacon, so to speak. It wouldn't be a visual signal, but audible. So I was thinking…"

"…Morse code!" Peppy and Fox spouted.

"Right!" said Slippy. "I don't know many guys who use it anymore, but I'm sure they'll be able to recognize that we're t-trying to get a hold of them."

"No need to explain! We have a ticket home!" Falco interrupted. "My transponder is already set for link-up. Get to it Toad!"

"Quite right Falco," Peppy chimed in, "Slippy, Rob is already prepping the Great Fox for the transmission. He ran the numbers himself and calculated we have an 87% chance of reaching a friendly vessel in Cornerian Space."

"That's more than _I _need." Falco cracked a grin.

"Alright Peppy, we're ready to go. Link is set to the pod!" Fox said.

"Good deal, Rob just finished hot-wiring the comm-link. It may be a small light show for a few moments, but if this manages to reach the fleet we should be getting a gate opening. Rob send the following message via morse code. Are you ready?"

"Standing by." Rob responded

As Peppy relayed the message, Rob was already sending the message through the great emptiness that surrounded them. From the farthest depths of known space to Lylatians, a team of mercenaries were actually making contact with the gate above Corneria.

* * *

"By the Spirits!"Beltino shouted.

Behind him was a tall shepherd breed General. Gen. Adrian Shepard, who was the man in charge of the defense of the station prior to the fleet's departure, overheard the toad scientist. Even after the fleet went through, the aparoids were feverishly trying to knock out the gate itself. 'A real one-track hive mind' he thought to himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he was very thankful (privately) that Wolf and his team had decided to stick around to help with the cleanup. What he didn't appreciate was how 3 merc fighters were putting an entire wing of Cornerian Air Guard to complete shame.

"_You know you owe us big for this General. But I only have one request…"_

It took some convincing to the Parliament, or at least what was left of it, but Shepard was able to get Wolf's team through a second gate opening. He would soon find out how right he was. His attention quickly turned to this new cause for concern.

"What do you have Doctor? Did they succeed?"

Beltino was all too happy in his response. "Succeed?! General they're trying to contact us so they can get home! We must open the gate immediately!"

Even the General, with his years of experience in war, having been a shaved tail Lieutenant with Pepper during the first Venom war, was feeling an overwhelming hint of relief. But be that as it may, he was still a general of the Cornerian defense force, charged with the safety of his planet, its people, his troops, and their assets.

"Slow down Doctor. I'm just as happy as you are, but can you verify from them that the threat has been eliminated?"

The toad began to stutter in protest, but a stern look from the general reminded him the gravity of their own situation. He knew he was right.

"Well, this pattern of beeps suggests Morse code, but I can't decipher what they're saying! I've never learned it, even with all my levels of expertise!"

Shepard's eyes peaked with interest, and then a grin spread on his face, "Then allow this old war-dog to do it. I've spent my share of time in the field. This ancient mess of communication was pretty useful during the early days of the war. We initially could beat an entire planetary assault with this old code…"

He would have continued his history lesson making his way to the terminal, but the impatient look from Beltino told the general that this wasn't the time.

"Hmph." He grinned, recognizing very well the pattern being sent.

"This is definitely Peppy on the other side. It's an old trick Pepper and I shared on the comms."

"Well what is he saying? Speak up general!" Beltino was starting to lose his temper.

"Don't start growing your warts yet Toad." The general continued grinning. "_They _are fine, and all is well. They took out the threat and want to 'catch a ride on the black hole' so to speak."

Beltino was dumbfounded. "Preposterous. Even if the Arwings managed to survive a transit through a black hole, which _I know _has been done before, I doubt that the escape pod even has the specs to _attempt _it, let alone the fact that a black hole could shoot them to the opposite side of the galaxy geometrically! We simply lack the technology and the calculus to make that determination, and even then how co-…"

"If you would SHUT UP and let me explain doctor!" the general barked in frustration, immediately silencing the old professor toad and gaining the attention of everyone in the GCC. (Gate Control Center) "As I would have told you earlier, 'codes' and ciphers can be more than a string of complex numbers and algorithms and what not…"

Beltino raised an eyebrow, curious if the old war-dog was about to challenge him in advanced arithmetic.

"It's as simple as making a message that only one person can understand, something derived from personal life, memories and such. In Peppy's case, "catch a ride on the black hole" is a phrase that he used during the first Lylat War when he told General Pepper what the team's plans were; hence that successful black hole transit you mentioned earlier."

"But what does that have to do with anything?"

The general chuckled. "Again, being derived from memory, you still have to lace the code even further. It can be divided into three components," he held up three digits indicating each step respectively," The first of which, is encoding the message itself. That encoding has to be unreadable by the enemy. By your standards, an attempt to ride a black hole is all but impossible. An enemy intercepting the code may dismiss it as radio clutter. But therein comes the second part, _we _can tell it's from Peppy, because he did just that, and we know he did. That's encoding and confirmation of origin."

"Hmph. Interesting, but that doesn't explain the meaning of the message itself." Beltino said, still unconvinced.

The general cracked a toothy grin, "And there lies the final part: decoding."

"Oh?" Beltino raised its eye lids. (?)

"Riding the black hole obviously means that they are looking for a means to return, via warp, doctor…"

Beltino gasped and immediately started shouting orders to the other gate technicians. "Reopen the gate immediately at the previous coordinates! NOW! MOVE!"

"uh..y-yes sir!" one of the hounds responded, and was relaying the orders for the steps necessary to reopen the warp gate.

The General and the Doctor looked out the window of the station and watched as the gate itself came to life, with the little components moving to their place in technological harmony.

"...expanding gate lens…"

They continued watching as the radiation in the gate field began taking form a circular disc of energy.

"Gate creation successful!"

The two continued watching as the GCC was bustling with activity, with technicians making minor corrections and continuing to monitor the gate through screens to check for anomalies or abnormalities.

Then, a piercing light shot from the gate…

* * *

Peppy continued staring at the console as Rob incessantly sent the message over and over again; the lights in the escape pod were blinking furiously and it was about to drive Peppy insane, let alone aggravate his already miserable headache. A ship exploding around you tends to have negative effects on the elderly.

"**We have sent the message 21 times over the course of 5.34 minutes. If my calculations are correct, a response from Corneria should be in effect and visible on our scopes within the next 3 to 5 minutes."**

Peppy sat there, paw on the bridge above his nose, very much cringed as a result of the ache, the lights, and Rob's monotone chatter.

"Well I hope they aren't taking too long then. If this blasted blinking keeps up I'll open the damn airlock myself!" Peppy mused, his frustration reaching peak levels.

"**Judging by hormonal patterns, body temperature, and brain activity, we judge that this actuality has above a 45% chance of occurring. We can determine via biological and anatomical records that your survival is impossible should this happen. Do you require physical restraint?"**

Peppy looked up at the android. The rectangular red light that made up Rob's eye focused on him, unmoving. The scowl on his face didn't waver once.

"Just keep doing what you're doing…_damn robot." _

"Peppy, are you feeling well?" Krystal asked, sensing a peak in mental activity coming from the pod. The wavelengths were similar to someone under stress and anger, then morphed into…rage. "I sense you are under distress?"

His ears perked hearing her lovely voice express concern. "It's nothing Krystal dear." Peppy said. "Just be thankful your mics can block the beeping coming out of this pod…"

"**Peppy has already expressed intent on opening the airlock due to increased stress but has refused any form of restraint." **Rob commented, immediately earning a glare from Peppy.

Falco, Slippy, and Fox, overhearing the chatter turned their attention to this new cause for concern.

"Slipping into senility already Pops?" Falco crowed, arrogance in his voice. Peppy could only smirk at his feign attempt to show concern.

"Not yet, but you'll be the first to know…that I can promise you." He said, snickering a bit.

Rob finally stopped sending the message over the beacon and stated **"After consideration, we have reached consensus that multiple attempts to make contact may cause radio clutter. We will postpone until further notice."**

"By all means, take a break Rob…" Peppy said in all the sarcasm he could muster.

The team had a small fit of laughter as Rob remained stationary at the terminal in the cramped pod, monitoring the screens, searching for any anomalies in the vast empty space around them. Soon enough, the android's sensors start going on frenzy. A high energy fluctuation was forming a few nautical miles from their position.

"**Alert! Anomaly detected on our sensors. Energy and gamma readings suggest a cosmic portal type event is occurring!"**

Slippy immediately knew what was going on. "It's t-the portal from the gate! We're s-saved!

* * *

"What's that?"

"Looks like a portal slash rift?"

"I do believe that this is the work of the toad's father. "

"Probably. You think that this may be our chance?"

"Let's go! I'll bet General Shepard has a generous reward for us in store."

* * *

The crew stationed at the gate watched in awe as the portal came to life in a near blinding light; its brilliant energy indicative that a warp was taking place, and coming their way. Just as they were expecting, but still breathing in anticipation and relief, the nose of the Great Fox escape pod peered through, followed by the rest of the hull. Only seconds later, four sharp pointed nose cones, the geometric shaping effect to aid in stealth capabilities, emerge from the light. The StarFox team had arrived in full.

"**Course set for CSS Phalanx." ** Rob stated.

Phalanx. Despite its name being reminiscent of an ancient battle formation, Phalanx was the prime medical vessel of the Cornerian armada.

"Good deal Rob." Began Peppy, "I'll take a warm bed with a glass of _Manor Westhouse"._

"I think a serving or Cornerian Ale is due…the whole damn bar!" Falco chorted, "Pucker your livers for an ass-kicking; the drinks are on me!"

The team had a quick fit of laughter as Peppy remained calm, but managed an ear-to-ear grin thinking of the 15 year old bottle of whiskey with his name on it. "Keep your cheap drinks. I'm living retired life, effective immediately."

Fox's ears perked, turning his attention to Peppy on his recent declaration. "So it would seem old timer. I'd say you earned a few fine spirits. I'm fairly certain the local farm lands were left unscathed. I'd say some cigars are in order as well."

"And with that," began Krystal "I'd say some Wine is a must. The Southside Vineyards should be ok." Even though she was still relatively new to the team, Kyrstal had taken some time in her off days during "training" to indulge in the high life of Cornerian society. Having just joined the mercenary agency _**Starfox**_ with a brand new paycheck, thanks to their, especially Fox's efforts on Sauria, which incidentally and by some remarkable act of fate resulted in Krystal's rescue from the revived, now defeated Andross, she took time to engage and educate herself in this new society, and took a particular liking to wine, becoming the team's self-appointed connoisseur. High class vixen, she was.

Peppy was pleased with the course of the conversation. He had dwelled for quite some time on the thought of retirement. His pension with the Cornerian military was still good and General Pepper has made more than a few notes and suggestions that Peppy be allotted full retirement benefits up to O-6; full colonel. Of course, Peppy being the old fashioned hare he was, having a tendency to show a level maturity beyond his age, was quite ready to get away from the hustle and bustle of Corneria's metropolises. He had researched bit by bit in his downtime where he would make his last home; a nice little mountain retreat, with a view of the ocean and a spectacular sunset. His contractor had already been underway only a few months before the invasion. Hopefully with a few short weeks of final touches, it would be ready. Just in time to recover and say good-bye to StarFox and christen the new carrier, whatever that may be.

"Then it's settled. Soon as I get off that floating bed-pan of a hospital, we're getting the party committee together. I'll go ahead and place Krystal in charge." Peppy chuckled, almost taunting the other males.

"Makes no nevermind to me, you old coot!" Falco decided he was perfectly okay with this plan. All he wanted was a full bar, with unlimited access. "I'll gladly pass the torch of responsibility."

"And I'll gladly accept this honor. Spirits have mercy for the day Falco has to plan anything." Krystal chortled, "Your impulsive nature is best suited to the cockpit and behind a rifle. No offense."

"None taken. I just want to relax. I want out of this damn plane, as ironic as it sounds. I want a shower and a tall one. And a cozy bed and a hot dame and-"

Falco's rant was cut short when Beltino's voice came in through the radio. "Welcome home team! It's so good to see you again. I'm monitoring you from the GCC right now." Beltino, having a little bit of medical knowledge was scrolling feverishly over the team's vitals and thermals. All of them we're fatigued, hungry, and had some scrapes and burns, particularly Fox and Krystal who were boots-on-metal at the Aparoid base. He paid extra attention to the first-aid applications: bio-paste, bandages; all done properly and with expert care for Krystal. Whether that was the woman's touch for self-aid or Fox's extra tender paws for a woman he was madly crushing on, Beltino would never know.

Peppy was obviously in the worst shape. Having barely made it in time to the escape pod; between the cockpit and said capsule, Peppy had to dodge hot circuitry and pipe-line burst all through the ship, not to mention very large fires and whatever Aparoids managed to crawl in to the air ventilation system. It was lucky for Peppy that an artificial atmosphere had enveloped the ship and he would not have to worry about suffocation. All things, considered, the fact he was able to sit up-right, much less communicate plans with the team was testament to his extraordinary will. Peppy Hare, a veteran of 34 years, was not about to be done in by an exploding ship.

"Looks to me like all of you need to have a look taken at you. I'll meet you on the Phalanx! –Slippy, I glad to see you alright and I am very proud of you—of all of you! You've all but immortalized yourselves as far as I am concerned. Beltino out!"

The team veered their fighters towards the medical frigate, its position highlighted by their HUD.

They had all felt a ping in their hearts at Beltino's words. Slippy's moist eyes started running over-drive.

"Slippy…are you crying"

"N-n-no Krystal. I'm *sniff* not crying.

Slippy wiped the few tears from his face. Though Krystal was the actual youngest member by age, Slippy was always the kid; Starfox's innocent personality, and conceptual opposite of Falco.

"We're almost there." Fox announced, directing his Arwing's nose toward small hangar bay, typically meant for medevac shuttles, the majority of which were focusing on search and rescue on Corneria.

Glancing out port side from his cockpit, fox could see smoke billowing from a few area's on Corneria's western hemisphere. At least 4 metropolises, including the capitol, we're devastated. His heart ached as he briefly closed his eyes, praying to whatever spirits would listen, to spare the victims of pain; to guide the search for followers; and heaven forbid, ease the suffering of those who would not live to see the rising sun again. He opened his eyes, facing back to the front, coming in on the Phalanx's starboard boarding area.

The escape pod went into automated docking mode; that is to say ROB took the helm and directed the craft in mechanical precision via the nav computer. The escape pod, which had a docking protocol and airlock system universal to all emergency escape devices on frigate class or higher, made a seamless connection with the exterior docking tube of the Phalanx. Within moments, Peppy could already hear EMS crews making their way to him.

ROB opened the hatch, and Peppy slowly made his way over towards the crew, who crawled in with a hover litter to carry him out.

One of the hounds spoke up, giving Peppy an awkward salute since he was half way crouched. "Welcome aboard Phalanx sir! We'll get you out of this bucket and into a proper facility, STAT!"

The team took that as a cue to move up and assist the aging rabbit onto the gurney. Peppy returned the sign of respect and spoke through his sigh in relief. "By all means corpsman, I'll take a room, and shot of whiskey."

The corpsman smiled and said, "I see what the skipper has in stock."

* * *

Fox, Krystal, Falco, and Slippy respectively brought their Arwings into the docking area and dismounted, greetings came in the form of several medical staff hovering around them with their scanners, who immediately began directing them to one of the many infirmaries aboard the medical ship.

Slippy and Falco we're almost completely unscathed and we're released early. The yeoman then directed them to the private cabins reserved for guest. Fox and Krystal remained there getting some light bandages for Krystal's burns and Fox had stitches put in. Despite all the advances in medical technology, needle and thread remained the most effective and cheapest way to close a laceration, and Fox had plenty of them once the emergency bio-paste was cleared away.

Sitting across from each other, but separated by a screen, the two could only imagine what the other was feeling. As Fox sat there, sutures passing in and out of his pelt, he did his best not to let out a sound. The methodical accuracy of the surgeon over his shoulder was testament to years of training, and many more of field experience, and it allowed him to maintain a constant flow of surgical procedure. Fox's cuts we're being sewn up in seconds.

He heard a sharp hiss and his ears perked, focusing his attention to this new cause for concern. The young intern on the other side of the screen, a silhouette of a young female canary, was trying to suture some small cuts on Krystal's abdominal area. She gasped in shock and whispered _sorry _quickly but Krystal only smiled, sensing her nervous feelings at this new experience. Krystal was no stranger to pain, and nodded at the young girl to continue. Experience is the best teacher; she knew that very well and looked at her would as the intern continued sewing.

Fox's eyes were focused on Krystal's figure. He could judge by the silhouette on the screen that the upper portion of her azure/black jumpsuit was removed and shoved down to her waist, leaving her brassiere exposed.

Krystal then picked up on some of Fox's thoughts and felt a grin creeping on her face. She decided not to press on the thought and allow Fox to continue gawking. In a way it was amusing to her, and cute on his part. Being the honorable person he was, Fox was never one to be considered perverted. He was just acting naturally. Krystal was attractive, and he knew it. To him she was drop-dead gorgeous, and she enjoyed watching his mind go every which way trying work up the courage to compliment on her appearance. But as fate would have it, Fox McCould, having faced every danger the galaxy could throw at him could hardly bring himself to hit on such a vixen such as Krystal, at least not yet.

"You okay over there?" He could be so considerate sometimes.

"I'm fine Fox…" She nodded to the intern with a genuine smile, letting her continue the intricate task of tending her wounds. "How about you?"

Fox chuckled, "I'm fine. Nothing I haven't been through before."

"I see." She paused, looking towards the floor, rendering deep thought. "I suppose that makes two of us, no?"

"So it would seem. I haven't forgotten what you endured." Fox said. The awkwardness of regaling tragic pasts in front of the two surgeons was starting to creep up on him. He almost felt guilty having allowed the exchange to take that course in the first place. He quickly shut his maw with the intent of keeping it that way.

"I appreciate the concern," She gave a slight smile at Fox's humble thoughts. "And don't worry, we can talk later."

"I'd like that." He knowingly returned the smile, and the two sat in silence as the flight docs finished their work.

* * *

Half an hour later, as the staff officially cleared them, Fox and Krystal were walking side by side down a windowed corridor on the starboard side of the ship; the view being that of the space outside of Corneria towards Meteo. Fox could instantly pick out the faint specs of light that represented Fachina, and further down to the left sector Y. The two practically represented a proverbial fork in the road when exiting Corneria's atmosphere, if your destination was Venom that is.

As they walked, Krystal was carefully reading Fox's thoughts as he reminisced to himself what he did as a teenager, just 9 years ago. At age 18, a person was considered no longer a minor, but was still not able to purchase alcohol. Actually that and owning a handgun were just about the only age based restrictions Corneria had for people that age. She found it ironic that someone who wasn't even old enough to purchase alcohol or a pistol wound up being the last line of defense for Corneria, and the spearhead of the counter-attack at the same time. It was truly remarkable that in spite of all this danger, someone as carefree as Fox McCould would rise to the challenge so willingly.

In actuality, it took some convincing on Peppy's part after bearing the terrible burden of informing Fox about his father's fate.

James Fox McCloud.

That name held a piece of Fox's heart so adamant you could almost physically see it if you performed surgery. His father, an ace pilot of the CDF, and founder of the team she was now a part of. Fox never openly talked about it. Even after a year of being his mentee, she never found the courage to ask him, just as he was reluctant to press his feelings for her. All she knew was what she was able to pluck out of his mind, albeit with a sense of guilt afterward. Coming from a world where telepaths, while common, were seen as alien, even among members of her own tribe.

She knew enough of James to know he was betrayed by one of the original members, Pigma Dengar, and left to rot on Venom. The file remains classified to this day, but all presumptions and hear-say point to "death-by-torture". In the wake of Peppy's narrow escape, James was left to a tragic fate. Peppy simply refused to talk about it, and a rabbit of his experience was more than capable of blocking certain regions of his mind.

Fox's reverie broke, as did Krystal's when they reached the end of the corridor. The hall broke into a T-junction, the opposing wall immediately presenting a series of doors that were marked as quarters for visitors or distinguished guest. The two rooms closest to the opening were occupied, as indicated by the holographic sign projected from the door, similar to a room number at a hotel, like the Lunar Stone.

To the left were more rooms, all flashing "VACANT" on the hologram, save for one right next to the door in front of the duo. To the right were two more vacant rooms, followed by an opening into what appeared to be a lounge of some sort.

"Go ahead Krystal. Take your pick." Fox said.

"Always playing the considerate leader, aren't you Fox?" Krystal giggled. "I believe I will take the one next to the lounge. I may decide to grab a refreshment before I retire."

"Heh. Yeah. I guess that would be a good idea. As for me, I see no problem just crashing right now. No pun intended."

Krystal let out a small laugh. "Now now Fox, we all know you simply can't be taken down that easily."

"Permit me some humility at least." Fox chided. He began to scratch the back of his head, contemplating how to ring in the non-verbal discussion that took place back in the infirmary. He felt he owed it to Krystal to explain his feelings on the subject at least. As a friend, among other things.

"Look, I uhh…" He stumbled, not sure what the words were he need to say, "Back in the clinic, I think I would at least like to get a few things off of my shoulders…"

Krystal gave a heartwarming smile. Fox was trying his very best to tend to her feelings on a subject that neither of them had discussed during the past year. She quickly, gently grabbed both sides of his muzzle with her paws and quietly said, "There'll be plenty of time later. For now, let's indulge mother nature and, how you say, 'crash' for the night." She placed a genuine chaste kiss on his cheek, close to his lips. "Good night, Fox."

She began walking away, leaving Fox stunned, reveling in the moment. He slightly, awkwardly turned to her as she walked towards her previously claimed room and watched as she opened the door with her VIP card. She turned and winked at him, biding him one last adieu, and disappeared into her room. The door slid closed behind her and the hologram vanished from a green 'VACANT' to a red 'OCCUPIED' indicator.

Fox remained motionless for a few more moments, lifting his hand to favor the sacred spot on his cheek. That was the first time Krystal's lips made contact in such an intimate way.

He shook his head, chuckling at the thought as it replayed multiple times through his head, then imitated Krystal as he disappeared into his room, stealing one last glance towards her door before his closed behind him. His cause for concern vanished as he slipped off his jacket and drug his tired, battered body towards the bed.

* * *

(_A/N) So...I realize that I posted the first chapter, or rather prologue of this story 4 years ago. Testament to my commitment right? In truth, after that happened, I did start working on this chapter soon after then got caught up in this thing called upper level college courses. I admit, this story has not been on my priority list and I owe it to anybody who reads this to apologize and explain why the long hiatus took place. I had ambitions for this story, like big development, but never knew how to get it off the ground. In short, call it epic writer's block. Oldest excuse in the book. I honestly don't know where I will go with this as I will graduate at the end of the year and start my career as an officer in the USAF. _

_Keep in mind, I will not endorse SF: Command as I never played it for lack of owning a DS, so parts of that story will NOT make an appearance in this story should I make future updates. With that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as it has sat on my flash drive/ HDD for the aforementioned four years. I don't plan on taking that long with the next chapter. Maybe...PM me if you have any questions. _


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